The Mini Genius
by Kitty-Kaitie
Summary: It was then the Hero of Skill had a sudden image flicker in his mind. It was blurry... but he saw a woman... a young woman... her voice so quiet it was impossible to hear... and he couldn't make out her face. This girl reminded him of someone, someone he had met a long time ago... but who!


**W/N: For many of you who know I've written this story before! Though I've decided to re-write it because... well... the old one wasn't too great, it made me want to beat my old self with a shoe. So with some help from friends and carefully looking over my grammar and spelling, here is the new and improved The Mini Genius!**

**Hope you enjoy is as much as the original!**

**Fable, Reaver © Lionhead Studios**

**Athena, Ethan, Story © Me**

_**Chapter 1**_

A frown plagued his face as his blue eyes lay upon the chalice of wine, his mind filled with so many thoughts that made his brow furrow. He was distressed, annoyed, and oh so bitter at the moment; many of his servants have become daring, such as eating the food they're not allowed to eat, sipping some of the good wine, and let's not forget taking some of his things to sell!

Why they would dare do such a thing to **the** Reaver himself leaves him completely flabbergasted. His mind started travelling to many different things he could do. He could just fire all of them and hold an interview for new servants... but that would take much too long and his patience is only so-so. It was then his mind started to think outside the box; he had had many servants do more... personal deeds for him, but they always expected extra pay for it; and he definitely did not like servants demanding extra pay for something that is such a high privilege.

Reaver began thinking about getting a slave this time instead of having personal servants. Slaves never asked for pay, they always do as their told... and they never dare do anything out of line; and if they did, Reaver would easily whip them back into shape. His frown was replaced with a smile as he sipped his wine. Yes... a slave would be perfect... He then began to think, 'where in the world would I be able to find a high quality slave?' It was then he remembered hearing about a secret slave auction going on near Driftwood...

Rising from his comfy, posh chair, Reaver made his way to the door after carefully placing his hat upon his head and grabbing his favorite cane.

A servant opened the carriage for him as he climbed in.

"Where to today, Master Reaver?" Asked the carriage driver.

"Driftwood."

"Yes sir," He whipped the reigns and they made their way towards Driftwood, Reaver tapping the tip of his cane as he thought to himself.

* * *

It wasn't until mid-afternoon they finally arrived at Driftwood. The carriage driver opened the door for Reaver and bowed as he stepped out, eyes scanning the area. There were quite a few other men and women that were in very nice looking attire while others looked like they slept with their farm animals. He decided to remain away from the crowd of filthy cretins and remained with the more posh looking people.

To Reaver's displeasure, he found no slaves that had that certain... trait to them that he was looking for. With a sad sigh, he got ready to make his way back to the carriage.

"Wait, my friends! There is one last slave to be sold for today!" Said the auctioneer. The crowd that had gotten ready to leave cluttered back eagerly. Reaver on the other hand, decided to remain behind and watch in the back. No need to be in all that commotion, besides, someone might ruin his suit and he certainly did not want that.

The very last slave that was presented left the crowd speechless, including the Industrial Giant.

Standing before them... was a little girl, no more than six. Her limbs were so skinny you could almost see her bones. Her hair was a right mess, matted and tangled, yet it was a beautiful dark maroon color. Her eyes were hidden behind the dark locks as her gaze remained to the ground, flexing her fingers and wrists to the uncomfortable shackles that were locked around them as well as her ankles. Her clothes indicated she had been with that man for a long time, quite possibly a year or two, they were quite filthy and tattered in some places.

Reaver couldn't help but sneer a tad at the last slave. Why in the world would he want a **child? **She'd be more of a burden than an asset. If he were to buy her he would have to take care of her, not the other way around!

Yet... something about his child tugged at his memory. He knows he has never seen this girl before, but... something about her reminded him of someone... but who?

His thoughts were suddenly broken by someone in the crowd.

"Why th'hell would we want some kid?!" Others murmured in agreement.

"Ah, my friends, this is no ordinary child! This girl right here is a little genius!" Said the auctioneer with a sly grin.

"Oh, really? What can she do?" Asked one of the posh men.

"Anything you desire!" His grin only widened. "Of course, other than your more... special desires. Though I'm sure you'll enjoy teaching her that in her teen years."

Some buyers laughed and nudged each other, murmuring, "She'd make some good meat. Now that yeh mention it."

Reaver remained silent, his eyes staring at the girl as he listened to some of the people propose a price. Something about her... clicked his memory... but what was it? It was beginning to aggravate him! Soon enough, though, the youngling looked up. Her eyes shined a beautiful midnight blue, though they were filled with fear as she looked through the crowd. It was then the Hero of Skill had a sudden image flicker in his mind. It was blurry... but he saw a woman... a young woman... her voice so quiet it was impossible to hear... and he couldn't make out her face. This girl reminded him of someone, someone he had met a long time ago... but **who?!**

It was aggravating him so much! The answer was right there, but he couldn't... _**see **_it! He took a deep breath, regained his composure, and decided to push that thought to the back of his mind for now as he began to wonder about what the auctioneer had said. If this girl truly was a... 'little genius' then she would have been able to escape by now. His gloved finger tapped his pale chin as he thought more thoroughly about this. Perhaps he should buy her... he could have one of the more trusted servants care for her... one that won't be a bad influence or won't say things about him to her that would make her disobey... and while they care for the child, he could be pouring in all his influence into that little head of hers.

And as the years go by, she would do as he says without question... and without pay.

A grin crossed his lips. That would work. And yet, as he thought about that perfect plan, a part of him couldn't help but ask... just how smart is this girl?

"I'll take her for one-hundred thousand," He called out right as the auctioneer was about to give her away. The heads turned to look at the confidently smiling man. The more aristocratic men and women there decided to back down. They could tell from his posture and that smile of his that he would be winning. Meanwhile the poorer of the crowd stared at him in envy, yet confusion. Why would such a rich man like him want a mere child? A man or woman was understandable... but not some child.

"Ah, very good, sir! You won't regret this, I promise!" The auctioneer smiled and rubbed his hands together greedily.

"I had better not, or your safety can't be guaranteed," Reaver simply replied, smiling. "Your pay shall arrive within a day's time, my good sir."

As the crowd dispersed, the auctioneer brought Reaver's new slave over to him. Her entire body trembled in fear, the fetters rattling loudly. She looked up as her new master turned, gesturing.

"Come along now, girl." He spared her no glance as he strolled over to the carriage and stepped in. He heard her struggled grunts and pants as she tried her hardest to keep up with him whilst still having the heavy shackles on her. Reaver frowned if only a little. This child was already proving to be a bother...

Though she managed to get in and climbed up onto the seat adjacent to him and sat there quietly, not once complaining or asking for help. Her gaze remained downward, much too frightened to look at the tall, rich man. The entire ride back was quiet, occasionally the fetters rattled quietly; the small girl eyed them in silence, fidgeting and scanning them over carefully.

All the while, Reaver watched her in silence. Merely **_looking _**smart meant nothing. Let's not forget that she would be unable to take them off unless she had something small and thin... like a needle. Both he and the child knew this. Her hands rested in her lap and her eyes averted to the window, staring as the sun was beginning to sink into the horizon. Reaver followed her gazed, resting both hands on his cane loosely. The sky was painted with an abundant of colors; pink, orange, red, all the colors reflecting off of Bower Lake and glimmering.

The girl seemed to be entranced by the sunset, her eyes shining in amazement.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Reaver suddenly asked, causing her to jump a little in surprise. She responded with a nod.

"Are you able to speak?" Another nod.

"Then tell me your name, child." She hesitated, silence plaguing their presence for a few moments before she shook her head.

Reaver's brow rose, "That wasn't a request, girl, that was an order." Her hands trembled and she gulped, shaking her head again.

His gloved hands gripped his cane in slight annoyance, "Do you _**have** _a name?" She responded with another shake of her head. She had no name, or could she merely not remember it? As they neared Reaver's wondrous mansion, he couldn't help but stare at her face. Her gaze was on her wrist chains again but he was still able to get a good look of her.

There was... something about her... something he couldn't explain... the face of this girl... reminded him of someone... but who? _Who?_

They finally arrived at his home and the tall man told the child to wait at the end of the steps as he walked inside. He was greeted by his servants, all of them bowing their heads. A young man approached him, his orange curly locks bouncing as he stopped where he was and bowed his head.

"Welcome home, Master Reaver. I take it your trip went well?" He asked, looking up at the man.

"Why yes, I did." Reaver grinned at the young man. Ethan was his name, around the age of sixteen, and definitely one of his more loyal servants. The freckled young lad looked over and blinked in confusion.

"...Master Reaver?" He looked back to the man. "I... uhm... mean no disrespect, but... why is there a little girl outside? In chains?"

"She's my new little slave, of course! And you-" He placed a hand on Ethan's shoulder, his grip firm. The look in Reaver's eyes gave him the message. "-will be caring for her as she grows. Understand?"

"...Y-Yes, sir."

"Good, now be a lad and fetch me a fat needle."

"O-Of course, Master Reaver!" Ethan turned and rushed off, soon returning with said needle. After thanking him, he turned and approached the girl, giving her the fat needle.

"If you truly are a 'little genius', then you are smart enough to free yourself."

Ethan watched from the doorway, brows furrowed as he tilted his head. Little genius? The youngling took the needle from Reaver and started fidgeting about. The two men watched her silently and soon enough they all heard a soft 'click'. The fetter that was clasped so tightly around her wrist fell and hit the ground with a loud thud. Ethan's green eyes widened in amazement while Reaver just smiled.

Well well well...

She proceeded to do the same thing she had done for her left wrist to her right, then both her ankles and looked up at her master once more, hesitantly handing him back the needle.

"Very impressive, girl..." He complimented, taking said needle from her. He turned his gaze to the freckle-faced lad that was still staring in astonishment.

"Ethan, take her to the wash room start a bath for her. Tell a maid to creat some new attire for her as well," He said. It took Ethan a moment to snap back to reality and he blinked a few times.

"A-Ah, yes! Right away, sir!" He approached the child and carefully lifted her petite frame into his arms, carrying her inside and taking her upstairs. The aristocrat quietly followed after them, watching as Ethan requested the tailor make some clothes for the new slave child and entered the washroom. He carefully placed her down onto the marble floor and started up a bath for her.

Reaver peeked into the room, looking at the child. Ethan had helped her take off her ruined clothes and was standing there as she waited for him to get the bath ready. He started noticing just how bruised her pale, delicate skin was, long scars ran across her back - possibly from lashings - while less noticeable cuts were on her feet, legs, and arms.

Finally, the ginger lifted her into the tub and carefully started scrubbing her.

"So..." He started quietly, "What happened?" Reaver had expected her to respond to the boy, since he was sure the girl didn't speak to him because she was too afraid to.

Instead, she merely remained quiet, staring at the bubbles as Ethan washed her.

"What's your name?" A shrug.

"Can you speak?" A small nod. "Will you?" A shake of the head, then she hesitated and shrugged. She wasn't sure...?

Ethan began to eye her scars, "Did someone hurt you?" She nodded again.

He hesitated for a moment, "...What is Master Reaver?" A shake of the head. He seemed to sigh in relief for some reason.

"So... er... who did hurt you?" He asked, though he noticed her body started to tremble in fear.

He frowned, "...Never mind, you don't need to answer that. Sorry to bring it up." He started washing her hair in silence before adding, "My name is Ethan, by the way. I'll be taking care of you until you're old enough, okay?"

She nodded and Ethan smiled. As he finished scrubbing all the dirt and grime out of her hair - not to mention getting all the knots out and un-matting it - she was all clean. He grabbed a towel and helped her out of the large tub, letting her stand there in the large, comfy towel as he drained said tub.

Reaver all the while watched him dry her off, able to get a much better look at her. Her hair was a nicer looking maroon color - not a single knot or mat in sight - resting an inch and a half below her shoulders. Her skin was quite pale, nearly as pale as Reaver's, and still showed off a few of the worse looking bruises and cuts, though Ethan had applied a salve to them to help them heal quicker. Her eyes were the only thing that stayed the same, midnight blue and shining in the light, though they are still filled with a small tinge of fear.

He stepped out of the way for one of the maids to give him the girls new clothes. It was merely a nice dress for her to wear so she wouldn't have to be in those rags anymore. She handed Ethan another garb, her night attire, and bowed to him before leaving in a hurry. Reaver looked into the room once more, watching Ethan dress her in her new clothes and pulled her hair back into a small braid.

"There, all done." He turned her around and smiled, straightening out her dress, "You look much better now without those rags on you." He patted her head and she looked at him, a small smile appearing. Rising to his feet, the ginger asked for a maid to take the child's old garments and toss them. As they headed for the door, Reaver left the area and went to his study, resting in his favorite chair and sighed.

This child... she was going to be more work for him instead of the other way around... but he couldn't shake the feeling that she was smarter than she looked. He tapped in chin in thought, thinking of what to do to test the child to see if she is truly a... 'little genius'... Leaning forward, he started to think on how he could truly put her intellect to the test. It was then he remembered a certain pistol of his stashed away in one of his drawers. Getting up from his chair, the aristocrat checked a few of his drawers before finally finding the one that had all his other pistols he liked to collect. Some of them needed fixing, a few just needed certain parts replaced or to be dusted, but there was a certain one that was broken beyond repair. Reaver picked up the pistol and stared at it for a while. He remembered... where he had gotten this gun from...

_"_, dear! I have a gift for you!"_

A young man came into his mind... looking exactly like him... his hair brown instead of black, his face looked so young and oh so pure...

_"What is it, mother?"_

He gripped the gun more tightly as his hands started to tremble.

_"It's a surprise! Close your eyes, honey."_

A smiling woman had something hidden behind her back...

_"M...My own...?"_

_"Yes, sweetie, you're own gun! I saw how tired you were getting of your pea shooter and... well, that's why I've been working extra nights. To get it for you."_

_"Mother... you didn't have to-"_

_"I insist you have it, just don't hurt anyone with it, okay?"_

He remembered the young man smiling and hugging the woman happily...

_"Thank you, mother! I promise not to get anyone injured with it. I'll go practice with it right now!"_

Reaver held his head and exhaled. He remembered this gun for sure... how long has it been since he used this...? He then decided... this will be her test. He remembered that this gun jammed every time he tried to shoot, the trigger no longer worked properly, and so many nuts and bolts were rusted... yet he never got rid of it...he **_couldn't_** get rid of it...

He was brought back to reality when a quiet voice called for him.

"Master Reaver? Supper is ready," Ethan informed as he entered the room with the tiny child. She sat down near the fire place and watched the sparks dance about as the ginger looked at his boss.

"Is something troubling you, sir?"

"Ah, no. I just thought of a little test for the 'genius'." Reaver replied, painting on his trademark grin. Ethan returned it with a more nervous smile.

"Of course..." He pulled in the cart as the aristocrat sat in his chair once again and Ethan handed him his tray and placed his napkin around his neck. After calling the child over, he handed her a smaller napkin as well as her food. She seemed to be very surprised at the sight of her plate, though she wasn't given a lot it appeared to be the promised land for her.

Ethan's face fell into a small frown. Just how little food was she given until now...? Either way, he stood and poured a cup of wine for Reaver and stepped back, clutching the wine bottle as he watched the young girl. Her big eyes were continuing to stare at the food, at first wondering if it was some trick. She then was about to grab it with her hands when she noticed... a strange looking piece of metal and blinked. Carefully picking it up, she examined it, turning it over and cradling it with her tiny fingers. Tilting her head, she looked confused. What in the world was this contraption? Looking up, she watched Reaver for a moment, as if to find guidance from him. She noticed how he would use the funny looking piece of metal to grab the food for him, which caused her brows to furrow in confusion and tilt her head the other way.

Though she was very confused, she looked down at her plate and stabbed the small piece of meat and looked back at Reaver, watching how he would put the food in his mouth with the help of the contraption. She followed his movements, holding the funny shaped metal in her hand strangely but she managed to eat the food... somewhat properly at least. She would eat slowly, just like he, then she grew impatient and ate faster until she was finished and pushed the plate aside.

Ethan was quick to take her plate, her fork, and place it on the cart. The girl then proceeded to stare at the room, occasionally looking towards Reaver. Though he seemed to be ignoring her, he was watching her every move, staring at her face. The tugs at his memory were coming back as images flashed through him of that same woman... that same voice that was just out of his hearing range...

He snapped back to reality when he noticed the small girl was staring straight at him now. Their eyes locked and she immediately looked away, fidgeting nervously and frowning. Raising a brow, he finished his food and had the ginger quickly take his plate. He then stood, grabbing his cane and holding the pistol in his other hand.

"Come, child," he said as he made his way out of the room. She hesitated before climbing to her feet and quickly scurrying along behind him. They ventured all the way to the back of his mansion and came upon the work room. It hadn't been used in quite a while, so many of the tools were dusty. Reaver would need to make sure to have someone clean this room up. He told Ethan to grab a chair for the girl and the freckle-faced lad did so, grabbing a large book as well to allow her to see what is on the table. Reaver then placed the pistol in front of her on the table.

"Fix this."

Taking the pistol into her hands, her eyes stared at it in silence. She looked as though she had seen pistols before elsewhere, though she didn't appear to be familiar with them one bit. It wasn't a surprise though, she _**was**_ very young, after all. The child proceeded to look at the pistol, carefully turning it over in her hands for a good fifteen minutes before she placed it down and scanned the room, staring at all the tools. Reaver took that moment to rest in a chair, watching her in silence whilst Ethan stood close to him. The petite girl then turned and looked to him and pointed to a few tools that rested on a shelf which was most definitely out of her reach.

"...P...P-P-P..." She stuttered out. Ethan understood and was about ready to get it for her, when Reaver stopped him.

He wanted to hear the girl finish her request. She gulped, fidgeting nervously with her braid and pointed again.

"P...Pl...P-Plee-ee...a-ase..." Her voice was so quiet... so timid... it was almost as if she were afraid to speak... but why?

After looking to the aristocrat for approval and receiving a nod, Ethan walked over to the shelf and gave her the tools with a kind smile. All the while, Reaver waited for her to speak again, tapping his finger on his cane.

The child swallowed some spit and peeked up at the ginger through her bangs, "...Th...Thaa-aa...ank-k... y...y-yoo-ou..." She said in her quiet, tiny voice. Ethan responded with a nod and a kind smile.

"Of course, just let me know if you need anything else," He said kindly, and stepped back, allowing her some room to work. She turned back to the gun and tilted her head, looking at the tools, then back at the gun, then back at the tools, and picked one up.

* * *

Time passed by slowly as the small child worked, she was indeed very careful with the rusty old gun. Reaver kept his eyes on her, watching her work, watching the wheels turn in her head.

It had taken at least three and a half hours, if not more, but she had finally finished and turned towards her master, carefully holding the gun in her hands. The gun looked... well, close to good as new, the rusty nuts and bolts she was unable to remove. He took the pistol from her and looked it over, a brow raising. He then cocked it and aimed, then fired.

The roaring sound of the gun firing caused the girl to jump and yelp loudly. The gun actually _**firing**_ is what surprised Reaver. He looked to the gun once more before looking at her, twirling it in his hand._  
_

"Very impressive, girl. You passed the test." He smiled, looking at his gun once more.

"This thing has been broken for ages," He added, the girl as well as Ethan catching a hint of cheer in his tone as he looked to the child once more, "Now..." He approached her, "Tell me, child, do you have a name? And I want you to **_speak _**to me. No nodding or shaking your head."

She gulped and fidgeted with the hem of her dress, hesitating.

"I...I-I... h-haa-ave... n...no-o... na-am-me..." She stuttered quietly.

"Everyone has a name, my dear," He simply replied, receiving a shake of her head.

"N...N-Not-t-t... m-me-ee..."

"I see, very well, then." He stood up straight, twirling the fixed gun in his hand. This child was indeed a little genius like that slaver auctioneer said she was... she was full of curiosity, a heavy want to learn things shined in her eyes, he saw that while she was working. He then stopped twirling his gun and smiled.

"Athena..." He looked to her, "Athena shall be your name, simple as that!"

"A...A-Ath-the..n-na...?"

"Of course, my dear. Now, you will address me as Master or Master Reaver. You will do as I said without question or a single complaint, and I can guarantee you no more lashings," He leaned closer to her, "Do you understand?"

She nodded and said quietly, "Y...Y-Ye-es... M...M-Ma-aast-t-ter... R-Reee-eav-ver-r..."

Though she still had that small tinge of fear in her eyes, Reaver noticed a hint of happiness for having a new name. She played with her hair, mumbling her name to herself as the aristocrat turned to Ethan.

"She will be living with you in your quarters, understand?"

"Of course, Master Reaver," He replied with a bow of the head.

"Good, now off to bed with you, child," Said Reaver, waving his hand as he left the room.

Ethan smiled, patting Athena's head gently, "Come with me, Athena, I'll show you to our room."

"O-Ou-ur-r... r-r-roo-om-m?"

"Yes, you and I will be sharing a room, though you can have the bed."

"B-B-Bee-ed-d...?"

He chuckled lightly and took her hand in his, "Come with me, I'll show you."

As the ginger showed the new slave girl their room, Reaver sat in his posh chair, staring at the fixed gun quietly, more and more flashes returning to his mind that he had locked away oh so long ago...

Flashes of a village... the woman... those people...

His brows furrowed and was quick to put the gun away back where he had found it, inhaling and exhaling deeply, but the flashes didn't stop. They were different this time... this time it was of another woman... one that haunted his thoughts earlier this day...

This time, though... they were clearer... he saw a face, a smile, her eyes... and he remembered...

"Impossible..."


End file.
